PWKM Oneshot AN Fills
by Shinigami Yumi
Summary: A collection of the oneshot Apollo/Nahyuta fills I wrote for the Phoenix Wright Kink Meme with the respective prompts on top. Each chapter is a standalone story.
1. Coming Home

**Prompt:** This ship has taken over my LIFE and there is almost no content of them and I'm dying. I just want sometching really smutty (preferably with Apollo on top) and also sweet. Everything else is up to you. I will love you forever.

* * *

 **Coming Home**

From as far back as he could remember, Apollo had always thought of Nahyuta as beautiful. He remembers how everything about Nahyuta seemed to shine — the silvery lustre of lavender hair, the brilliance of piercing green eyes, the luminous sheen of porcelain skin. He remembers growing out his hair, then realizing the look suited Nahyuta, but not him, so he cut it all off again. He remembers thinking Queen Amara must be gorgeous because Nahyuta didn't look much like Dhurke at all. What he doesn't remember is when Nahyuta became his personal standard of beauty. It wasn't till they met again that he realized he had been subconsciously comparing people to Nahyuta to decide whether they were beautiful.

Where they grew up, the summer sun seared even with the cool mountain air — perfect weather for splashing in the river and playing tag nude through the open grassland on this mountainside while their clothes dried off. He can't remember when they stopped… probably after Dhurke saved them both from drowning and they stuck to safer waters.

The grass is longer now, but sitting out here where they used to play, it's easy to remember those idyllic days. Back before Dhurke was killed, back when this had been their home, back when they had been a family…

"Do you really have the time to be sitting idle out here?"

"N—Nahyuta!" (Speak of the devil…) He doesn't have to ask how his old friend found him.

The white sash floating behind the monk seems to slowly twist in a loop if he stares at it, but that's… impossible, right? The ends aren't connected. Then again, it shouldn't be possible for it to float like that either…

Nahyuta forms a familiar mudra with his hands, and a butterfly alights on his fingertips as he shakes his head with an exasperated sigh. "Were you not just complaining about your case load and backlog?"

Apollo slumps, grimacing. "Give me a break, Nahyuta. The words are blurring on the page."

Instead of chiding Apollo like he would in court, however, the prosecutor sits down beside him. "It was…" Nahyuta grips the dragon tattoo on his palm that he now wears openly. "…selfish of me to ask this of you."

Apollo shakes his head and insists, "It was my choice to stay. You never said it would be easy."

"If only Ga'ran hadn't executed or chased out all the lawyers, you would have had some help. And to think I was complicit in her machinations…" The other's expression is pained. "I pray the Holy Mother forgives this taint on my soul."

(Nahyuta…) "If only she hadn't completely mangled the legal system, we wouldn't have to do this, you mean." He shakes his head again. "None of this was your fault. You only did what any older brother would have done."

"Ah… Her Benevolence doesn't seem to agree. Every time she sees me, she's so angry, she splutters and calls me Braid Head."

That cracks Apollo up —Nahyuta has completely misunderstood; (guess Ema was right about his people skills)— but his laughter gets him a dragon glare, and Nahyuta smacks him with his prayer beads.

"Only a truly putrid mind would find humor in—"

"Objection! You've got it all wrong." He tries to quell his laughter with little success. It feels good though — he needed that. Now, if only he could get Nahyuta to smile and laugh like that again, too… "It's just… you can't expect Her Benevolence to adjust so quickly to having an older brother. She's probably just flustered, knowing how much you care about her."

"I… I see. I suppose you may be right. May the Holy Mother guide us to more harmonious relations."

Apollo is rewarded with a small smile, and for a moment, he forgets to breathe. He never thought it possible before, but when he first saw Nahyuta in the United States, he was struck by how much more beautiful the other had grown.

"…instead."

Apollo shakes himself. "Sorry, what did you say?"

The gold hoops adorning Nahyuta's ears jingle as he shakes his head. "As ever, you are a screamer, not a listener."

"Wh— Objection!" Apollo feels the heat rise in his cheeks as Nahyuta flinches away. "D—do you even know what that means?"

"Heh." He smirks with a tilt of his head. "You know perfectly well that Khurainism does not require vows of celibacy."

He says it matter-of-factly, calm, but those vague words make Apollo's bracelet tighten, and the sharp twist of jealousy takes him by surprise. (Get a grip, Justice. Now you're being irrational.) Nahyuta's sex life is none of his business, and considering they grew up as brothers, he should be happy Nahyuta wasn't always lonely and outcast. But that last day before Dhurke took him to the States…

 _"Nahyuta, why can't you come along?"_

 _Sitting on an outcropping behind their house, his head on Nahyuta's shoulder as they gazed out over the valleys below, Apollo never wanted to leave._

 _"Unlike you, my parents are not American."_

 _As ever, Nahyuta showed no emotion as he stated the fact. It was always hard to tell what he was really thinking._

 _"Will you miss me?"_

 _Waist-length lavender hair cascades over Nahyuta's shoulder as he turns to say, "Yes, of course," with a sad smile, and Apollo's bracelet doesn't react._

 _The move leaves their faces barely an inch apart, and Apollo finds himself thinking of the pairs of people he'd seen at the bazaar the last time he visited the town — they'd held each other's hands and pressed their lips together. He was told they did that because they loved each other._

 _Well, he certainly loves Nahyuta._

 _Green eyes widen when their lips touch, but Nahyuta doesn't pull away, and his lips are softer than they look._

 _Then they move and bump noses a—_

"Apollo, if you keep this up, you will find yourself in the Hell of Echoes, mute but always hearing the sounds and voices you fear most, as punishment for never listening in this world."

"Ack, sorry." He scratches the back of his head with a sheepish chuckle. "I was lost in thought." In truth, they had neither parted nor reunited on very brotherly terms.

"I noticed. As I said, a screa—"

"Stop saying that!"

Nahyuta chuckles then, just like when they were kids, and it feels natural to lean into his side. The other reciprocates, and for a moment, it feels like no time has passed. Lavender hair is downy soft on his cheek, and Nahyuta still smells of the fresh-cut grass and flowers of that spring afternoon.

Reaching out, Apollo traces the tattoo on Nahyuta's palm where it rests on his knee, the dragon that binds them together. If only Dhurke could see them like this now, rebuilding Khura'in's legal system together like he wished…

"Apollo…"

He jerks away. "I—I'm fine!" But he chokes up on the words, and Nahyuta lets out another exasperated sigh.

"I told you I am wise to your tricks, Apollo," the prosecutor chides. "I might not always call your bluff, but do not let that fool you into thinking that I cannot tell when you are bluffing."

To Apollo's surprise, Nahyuta wraps an arm around him and pulls him to rest his head on the taller man's shoulder, the way he'd always comforted Apollo as children — Apollo wishes there did not exist photographic evidence proving that he had been shorter from the beginning, and their height difference has only grown.

"Is… this… acceptable?" It's been so many years, after all.

But like this, it's just like old times. Sure, Dhurke was the one rescuing him, the reliable dad who always had his back, but when the bad things had gone away and he'd been suitably patched up, it was always Nahyuta's gentleness that soothed him. And whenever Nahyuta fell sick, it would be his chance to return the favor — illness tended to hit Nahyuta rarely, but especially hard. Although they were only a year apart, Nahyuta insisted on being the responsible older brother and tried to help take care of Apollo, so it wasn't often that their roles were reversed, but they shared a room for many years and, by preference, often even a bed. Even after all these years, this closeness is comforting, and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed it.

Apollo buries his face in Nahyuta's high collar and nods. "I'll be fine." If he keeps saying it, he will be —it's always worked before— but nowadays, it also makes him think of Clay, and that pain has dulled but never gone away. "I'll be fine," he repeats, but he relaxes and lets the tears fall.

Instead of telling him to let it go and move on the one time it might actually be good advice, Nahyuta murmurs an apology. "I never gave you the time to mourn him. In the end, you were closer to him than I was. Even this mark, it should be on your hand. It is you who has inherited his spirit."

"That's not true, and the proof is your present success. Despite all the prejudice you faced, you never gave up." He covers the tattooed hand with his own and laces their fingers. "That mark is where it should be."

The way Nahyuta looks at him says he disagrees, but doesn't think it worth arguing now. "If you wish, I could ask Mother…" he offers instead, voice trailing off in hesitation, and "Do you want to?" Apollo asks — in truth, Nahyuta had had even less closure.

The other closes green eyes and seems to give the matter some thought, then lifts his free hand into the prayer mudra and whispers words Apollo mostly doesn't understand. It wasn't too hard to relearn vernacular Khurainese now that he's living here again, but he never studied the classical Khurainese of the Scriptures.

(Who are you praying for, Nahyuta? Yourself or Dhurke?)

At length, Nahyuta admits, "Perhaps that would be good for us both… and Her Benevolence as well."

(Yeah… it might be good for Queen Rayfa to talk to her real father, too.) But Apollo's distracted now — just like that day, their lips are barely an inch apart, and— (Was there someone? _Is_ there someone?)

He shifts closer and sighs in happy relief when Nahyuta closes the rest of the distance. "Was" doesn't matter — it's not like Apollo didn't see anyone while they were apart either, and it's surprising, even, how easy it is to remember those feelings now. But despite taking the initiative, Nahyuta flounders when Apollo deepens the kiss, like… like (He doesn't know what to do!) Encouraged by the realization, Apollo cups Nahyuta's cheek, sliding his fingers into lavender hair as he caresses the other's tongue with his own, and the hand holding his tightens. Porcelain skin is flushed when they part, green eyes dilated and half-lidded, and _oh._

"Is this how you are with strangers, Prosecutor Sahdmadhi?" Apollo teases with his cockiest grin.

Nahyuta blinks, then looks away in chagrin as memory serves. "I see. I hurt your feelings, so you are… getting back at me."

Right. Apollo should have known better than to expect him to get it and play along. "You did," he replies seriously, guiding Nahyuta to face him with his hand on the other's cheek. "But no, I wasn't. I know why you said that, and I know you didn't mean it."

Smirking suddenly, Nahyuta leans into his touch. "But I did. It is time we got reacquainted; don't you agree, Mr. Justice?"

(Urk… who's playing whom now?)

Before he can protest, Nahyuta presses their lips together again, confidently guiding him to lie back on the grassy ground, but he has a feeling that he's on the right track here— Nahyuta has never done anything like this before and is simply faking it.

Still, "Here? Won't we be seen?" Apollo gasps between kisses as deft fingers undo the buttons on his vest.

The other pauses, earrings brushing his cheek. "Who else would know to look here?"

It's true — this was their playground, near where Dhurke lived in hiding; the people of Khura'in rarely had cause to come out here, which was why Dhurke chose the place.

"Oh, I suppose, since you're regent now," Apollo murmurs, eliciting a gasp as he pulls the prince flush to press their hips together, "they'll just look the other way and pretend not to see you frolicking in the fields anyway."

Rolling his hips, Nahyuta bites back a moan, but Apollo doesn't. "How unenlightened to think rulers above the law and beyond reproach. Still, perhaps a blow to client confidence will lighten your case load as you wish."

"With all the free advertising you're all doing? Unlikely," he retorts, breathless, working on the elaborate white coat. "Besides, it's not like they have any alternatives." He tugs Nahyuta's hair-tie off.

 _"Apollo."_

Nahyuta frowns sternly as the braid comes undone to blanket them in soft lavender waves, but before he can continue, Apollo combs his fingers through silken strands, fingertips dragging over the other's scalp. Nahyuta melts against him with a sigh, and he smiles fondly — he used to do this whenever Nahyuta had trouble sleeping, and he's glad some things haven't changed.

When Apollo tugs at the red scarf, the other brushes his hands away and unpins it, mumbling something about how he'll damage it. He trails kisses down the exposed neck, sliding his hands under the lavender dress shirt to touch bare skin, and Nahyuta's breath hitches. He pushes the red vest off Apollo's shoulders and starts on the buttons of the shirt below when—

A yak grunts.

More yaks echo it, and now Apollo can feel a herd clodding nearer in the ground, but Nahyuta is already rolling off and away.

Right. A herd of yaks must be accompanied by their herder.

He quickly buttons his shirt and vest back up, but when he sits up, he realizes that there's still the problem of Nahyuta's hair.

"Did you find it, Apollo?" the other asks suddenly, louder than usual and with a pointed look in green eyes — (Play along, Justice.)

"Uh…" He scratches his head. "No…?" (What are we supposed to be talking about anyway?!)

Nahyuta sighs dramatically, gathering his hair to the side and into his lap. "All is as the Holy Mother wills it. I shall simply have to make do."

"Ah! My Lord! And Mr. Justice! Happiraki!" The yak herder runs over to form the traditional triangle with his fingers and bow low.

They return the greeting, and Nahyuta calmly explains their presence here —he was looking for Apollo when his hair-tie snagged on a twig of some sort and broke, so for now, he was going to retie it with his red neck scarf instead because neither of them can find it— as Apollo surreptitiously slips the hair-tie wound around his fingers into his pocket to hide. He's glad for the cover of long grass, but he still sits, loosely hugging his knees as the monk says a prayer for the herder, because he doesn't have a lap full of hair on his side. The man leaves, gushing with gratitude, and Apollo crawls over.

"There's grass in your hair," he says as he tugs a blade out.

"And pray tell whose fault that is," Nahyuta replies flatly as he starts untangling and sectioning it with his fingers.

"Here, I'll help you."

Apollo massages circles into the other's scalp with one hand as he picks bits of grass and twigs out with the other, and Nahyuta leans into him with a soft groan, but only starts rebraiding his hair.

"Will you be coming to the palace tonight?"

Apollo often goes to the palace to work on Khura'in's legal system with Nahyuta, but lately, he's been too busy. Tonight, though, he suspects they won't be writing any laws.

"If you delay the next trial by a day, I probably could," he tries.

"Satorha." Green eyes cut to him, sharp as a blade. "Nice try, red pepper. What kind of professional—"

"Objection! You know perfectly well that I'm not slacking off, Nahyuta! I don't have your memory!"

It's never been proven, but Apollo is convinced Nahyuta has an eidetic memory. His case research is always thorough, and there is no way he could read all of that information more than once in the time frame he has, but he always remembers them in detail regardless of whether they're in the Court Record or his notes. He also heard that Nahyuta memorised the Scriptures of Khurainism in record time and picked up English and a working knowledge of the American legal system surprisingly quickly as well. In fact, according to Ema, Nahyuta seems to have a functional grasp of the local language and legal system in every country they have worked in together so far, which may be part of the reason for his international success. Even as a child he had loved and admired his friend — kind and beautiful Nahyuta who was determined and hardworking and better at everything.

The glare softens, and Nahyuta returns his focus to braiding his hair. "I suppose I could file the paperwork for it tomorrow instead of later," he relents softly, "since there are also pressing administrative matters to attend to."

Apollo grins, pressing a kiss to the regent's temple. "Then I'll see you tonight. I should get some work done in the meantime."

* * *

It is long past sunset by the time Apollo makes it to Nahyuta's quarters, but it is well worth the effort when the other greets him in nothing but a robe, hair already down and jewelry already removed. Apollo had wondered if they would make some progress on their project first, but Nahyuta has never been one to mix business with pleasure.

"I was about to bathe," he says, locking the door behind Apollo. "I, myself, returned not long before you arrived."

Grinning, Apollo asks, "Is that an invitation to join you?"

"Do as you please, Apollo," he sighs tiredly. "I have learned that you will rarely be dissuaded from that."

(I wonder what happened…?)

Despite the change in mood, Apollo follows Nahyuta to the bath — it's a pool of steaming water with wide steps for people to choose their preferred depth. Although the water is clear, the steam is fragrant with herbs and flowers, and when Nahyuta drops the robe to enter the nearby shower, Apollo's mouth runs dry. Hurriedly, he shucks the tracksuit he wore over and embraces Nahyuta from behind, trying not to feel self-conscious about his head barely reaching Nahyuta's shoulder when they're standing.

"What happened?" He presses his lips to soft skin where he can reach as the warm water washes over them.

The other tenses — Nahyuta will probably refuse to tell him and make him figure it out on his own as usual, ever one to suffer alone in silence. But until he figures out what it is and how to fix it… He moves around and takes Nahyuta's hands.

"You'll be fine!"

The other starts, then says, "Yes, of course."

"No, no, you need to say it. Try it."

A lavender eyebrow rises. "You mean like your Chords of Steel exercises?"

"Yes! Try it. It really works! I'm Apollo Justice, and I'm fine!"

Nahyuta looks doubtful, but caves in to his earnest, expectant look with another sigh. "I… I'm Nahyuta Sahdmadhi, and I'm fine."

"Oh, c'mon, Nahyuta. I know you can do better than that. Say it like you mean it! Again! I'm Apollo Justice, and I'm fine!"

"I—" Giving up with a huff, Nahyuta shakes his head. "If you simply wished to know what happened, then it is my mother. As ever, she is too kind. She seeks leniency for her sister, but Ga'ran is finally where she can no longer harm anyone, and I think it unwise to change that."

"I completely agree," but that doesn't solve the issue of maternal pressure from the former queen.

Still, Nahyuta only tilts his head and considers Apollo. "I see. That is why you kept repeating that you are fine earlier."

Apollo nods. "A good friend taught me that. It really does work."

"Interesting." Nahyuta sits on the nearby stool, smiling slightly as he works shampoo into his hair. "I should like to meet this friend someday," and Apollo knows from Nahyuta's concerned expression that he didn't manage to keep his face from falling in time.

"He— He um… Clay is… we'd need your mother's help for that, too."

"I see. So he, too, has passed into the Twilight Realm." Nahyuta shakes his head sadly, then clasps Apollo's hands between his, palms together. "May the Holy Mother have mercy on his soul and guide him to Her side."

He continues in classical Khurainese, and as usual, Apollo understands barely a word of it, but he can sense Nahyuta's sincerity, and he's touched, grateful — Apollo has never been religious, but he figures that if spirit channeling and the divination seance are real, then there must be at least some truth to Khurainism. Mostly, however, he thinks that the clergy suits Nahyuta — even as a child, his old friend had always been capable of genuinely caring for total strangers.

Now that Nahyuta is sitting, though, Apollo can finally reach his face, so he leans in for a kiss when the prayer ends. The other responds clumsily but without hesitation, hands dropping to Apollo's hips and moaning when Apollo lathers the shampoo on his head. Green eyes are closed, and Apollo hopes it's feeling rather than suds.

He pulls Nahyuta into a tight hug — like they used to, like he's wanted to for so long now. "I've missed you," he mumbles, trailing kisses along the other's jaw and continuing down that long neck to graceful shoulders. "So very much."

"And I you," Nahyuta sighs into his ear, returning the embrace. "Like I said I would."

He ends up straddling Nahyuta's lap, and the contact surprises him, feeling Nahyuta's cock slide alongside his own. "You remember that." Apollo smiles, fond.

"Naturally."

"So." His smile turns sly as he presses their foreheads together, blocking out the rain of water. "What would you have done if we hadn't bumped noses and Dhurke hadn't come out to get us?"

Eye to eye, he can see the exact moment his friend goes blank — Nahyuta cannot think of anything, even in hindsight.

"Gotcha!" He wags his finger — force of habit. "You've… never really done anything like this before, have you?"

Nahyuta averts his gaze, a confession in itself, but before he can say another word, Apollo closes his hand around their erections and strokes.

"Ahh!"

The cry is Apollo's opening to plunder Nahyuta's mouth, and he does, groaning as he continues, as one of Nahyuta's hands joins his and finds the rhythm. Their eyes drift shut, and he traces the recesses of the other's mouth with the tip of his tongue, both moaning as one when slender fingers follow his example to tease the ridge and head. Nahyuta trembles, kissing back with… desperation, almost, and—

"I'm glad," Apollo breathes over swollen lips. "I'm glad the honor is mine."

"Hngh-ahh— I love you!"

The confession blindsides him, but his body's instant, visceral reaction is the only answer he needs. He comes with a shout, seeing stars as they slump against each other, Nahyuta shuddering through the aftershocks in his arms. He knows he's smiling like a fool, and he should say something, but his brain feels like it has short-circuited, and the words won't come.

"A—Apollo, I…"

"I love you, too," he interjects urgently, before Nahyuta can misunderstand — the details and plans can wait. "It's not— I didn't— but…"

Nahyuta shakes his head, face still buried in his shoulder. "There is a saying here: 'A wise man knows when to speak and when to listen.' But you were never wise." He straightens, tilting his head to meet Apollo's gaze, and _this._

This is the truly happy smile Apollo has been longing to see since they met again.

"Well, back in the States, we say: 'Silence is golden, but Justice needs only Chords of Steel!'"

Unimpressed lavender eyebrows rise with a grimace. "You made that up, didn't you?"

"Doesn't matter." He loops his arms around Nahyuta's neck with a grin. "It's true."

"Hmph." But Nahyuta chuckles in fond exasperation and reaches for the soap. "I remember bathing you as a child." He turns the shower off and smooths soap suds over Apollo's skin. "I always ended up in the bath, too, because you always made a complete mess."

Apollo laughs, squeezing water out of long, lavender hair. "Funny. I don't remember you complaining."

He rubs conditioner into damp locks, fingertips sliding along the other's scalp, and Nahyuta hums with pleasure, relaxing into him. He'd always thought Nahyuta's hair was pretty and soft and wanted to touch it, so it hadn't taken long to realize that his friend more than welcomed the contact.

Back before he tried to forget, in the early days after his move to the States, he remembers watching the second half of a cartoon while waiting for one of Clay's favourite space-themed shows to come on and explaining to his new friend that the friend he lived with back home was an exiled prince, just like the guy on screen. Fascinated by the novelty, Clay had eagerly asked for details… only to decide that Apollo's description of Nahyuta seemed far more like a princess in the cartoons Clay's girl cousin often watched than the mighty warrior then doing battle on screen. Now that he knows the specific reference —or so he thinks, thanks to Trucy and Pearl— it's funnier than it should be.

"What's so amusing?" Nahyuta asks at his chuckle.

"Oh, uh… I'm just thinking of how you let down your hair for me," he evades, deciding the details are best left ambiguous.

That nets him a withering look. "I can hardly wash it braided, Apollo."

"Oh, I know."

He pecks Nahyuta on the lips, glad for cultural differences for a change, but the reality is that Nahyuta _is_ a royal, and he has no idea how that will affect things between them. Of course, knowing perfect Nahyuta, the regent has already thought this through, but it'd be nice to be in on it.

Then Nahyuta's hands slide over his chest, and a jolt goes straight down as they brush his nipples. It doesn't escape his lover, who immediately returns his attention to them.

"Interesting." Lightly callused fingertips flick them, and Apollo's knees go weak. "This is new."

"D—do you…?"

He does the same to Nahyuta, who shakes his head with a smirk and turns the shower back on to rinse off. He doesn't stop playing with them, though, simply dips his head under the water to take one nub into his mouth now that the soap is gone. He worries it gently with teeth and tongue, his thumb still circling the other, and Apollo whimpers, hard all over again.

"N—Nahyuta…" but the other only switches sides, and his hips jerk, rutting into his lover's lap with a moan.

Nahyuta turns the tap and half-carries Apollo out of the shower to the bath, setting him down at the water's edge, then slipping into the steaming water. Like this, it's the perfect height, and with all the ruthlessness he displays in court, the prosecutor resumes pursuing his targets.

"Nahyuta…! Hngh!"

Out of nowhere, it seems, the monk produces a circle of prayer beads and winds them multiple times around Apollo's leaking erection.

"Wh— Wha—"

Nahyuta holds up the first three fingers of one hand and whispers something, and Apollo is crying out as the beads constrict. The strength to remain upright leaves him, but Nahyuta holds him up and continues the assault, trying all kinds of things with teeth, tongue, lips and fingers as the beads intermittently tighten, and Apollo clings to him, all "Nahyuta" and "please" and sobs of pleasure.

He's close, and this is all going too quickly, but then Nahyuta scrapes one tip with his teeth and the other with the pad of his thumb in time with the beads' squeeze, and orgasm explodes through him, white-hot.

"A courtroom victory would be more satisfying, but I appear to have proven my case: you are most certainly a screamer."

The prosecutor's expression is still immovably smug, and Apollo is fairly certain the entire palace heard him scream Nahyuta's name, but he cannot bring himself to care. As quickly as they appeared, the prayer beads have vanished, and it's too much effort to wrap his mind around how. Still, he lets his lover tug him forward into the steaming water, and the heat is relaxing, comfortable. Nahyuta reclines on a step with only his head above the water, and Apollo crawls forward through lavender tresses for a kiss.

"That was amazing." Nahyuta has always been a fast learner though. He rubs their noses when they part and settles into his lover's side.

"You still do that?" It had been their way of saying goodnight.

With a shake of his head, Apollo replies, "Only with you. It was ours, the way shouting 'I'm fine' was mine and Clay's before he passed away."

"I see."

They wind their arms around each other, and Apollo can hardly believe that they've come back to this after all this time. He'd tried so hard to forget, thinking Dhurke would never come, and he'd never come back, but… In truth, Nahyuta deserved better —the prince's love and loyalty never wavered— and if Apollo had ended up with someone else… He doesn't know whether they would have regretted it, but he does know one thing: he's going to do his best now to bring Nahyuta the happiness he so richly deserves.

Despite the water, he feels himself drifting off when Nahyuta suddenly sits up. "It's late. We should rest."

Agreeably, Apollo follows him out of the bath, and he's squeezing water out of his hair with a towel when Apollo realizes Nahyuta is still half hard. (Argh… you always… You should have told me,) but he's already leaving the bathing area. He sits at the dresser to blow his hair dry, and Apollo wraps his arms around his lover's waist, inhaling deeply of the scent of his hair and dropping featherlight kisses on his neck and shoulders.

"Ap— Apollo!"

The gasp is part protest, part pleasure as he fists Nahyuta's cock, feeling it swell again as Nahyuta's hips buck, thrusting into his hand. The prince leans back as Apollo nips along his jugular, and if Apollo weren't so spent, the very sight would get him going — Nahyuta looks debauched, erotic, moaning Apollo's name with his eyes closed, and Apollo wants—

He turns his lover on the dresser stool and sinks to his knees between parted legs. Nahyuta starts to ask, but he's already diving in to seal his lips over the head and—

"A—ah, H—Holy Mother, Apollo, I— Hngh-ah-ahh!"

Suction and a swipe of the tongue, and he's gone, back arching with a sharp cry as climax hits, and he spills down Apollo's throat. His knuckles are white from gripping the dresser hard to steady himself, and their eyes meet as Apollo milks him through the aftershocks.

"Will you go back?" he whispers, searching brown eyes, and in a heartbeat, Apollo realizes _this is for real._

He turns to press his lips to the silky soft skin of the other's inner thigh, then rests his head there to gaze up adoringly. "I've already chosen you, Nahyuta."

That's not to say he wouldn't go if Mr. Wright and the others needed him, but he'd come back this time. For Nahyuta, he'd come back for sure.

Nahyuta's hands drop to his head to caress his face and hair, and Apollo is content. Nahyuta looks content, too, like he hasn't in too many years, and Apollo hopes this will last.

"Go to bed?"

"Mm." He pecks Nahyuta on the cheek before he goes.

And when the curtain of lavender hair falls over them as Nahyuta slips under the covers beside him, Apollo never thought he'd feel this way here again, but he's home.


	2. Older Brother Responsibilities

**Prompt:** Give me Nahyuta and Apollo acting like brothers. It can be when they were kids, post-SoJ... Fuck, even an AU where they were teenagers together. I just think this is the cutest thing ever and want some heartwarming fluff of them being family.

May or may not be a prequel to **Coming Home** (Chapter 1)

* * *

 **Older Brother Responsibilities**

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi tosses and turns in his bed, unable to get comfortable. He's very rarely sick, but whenever he was, he was utterly miserable, and this time is no different.

It's always either too hot or too cold, so he's always sweaty or shivering, and it feels like all of his senses are in overdrive. Everything aches, and moving brings either pain or nausea, but if he lies still for too long, he feels stiff and sore. Sometimes, it's hard to breathe, and the room is too stuffy; sometimes, the mere thought of food makes bile rise in his throat, but hunger is no better.

Even sleep is a struggle, and all he can do is pray for the Holy Mother's blessing.

The door slowly creaks open. "Nahyuta, are you awake?"

It's Apollo. To the kid's credit, he's whispering — he knows that loud noises and bright lights hurt. Unfortunately, Apollo is still naturally very loud, and it magnifies the headache of opening his eyes.

"Yes," he'd groan if his throat weren't so hoarse. "What is it?"

"Dhurke asked me to check on you because dinner is ready." The younger boy climbs onto the bed beside him —he's short, so the beds are a bit high for him— and Nahyuta is about to protest when Apollo holds out a sip cup of water. "You sound like you need this."

Nahyuta struggles to lift his head enough to drink some, but that makes him dizzy, so he tries rolling onto his side instead. Apollo quickly shifts to help him, holding his arm under Nahyuta's head and neck for support. When he's done, Apollo sets the sip cup aside and helps him lie back down.

"You're still so warm," Apollo not-whispers, a small hand pressed to Nahyuta's brow. "I'll tell Dhurke you're awake and get you a cold towel?"

"Mm," he agrees, and Apollo takes off.

As he waits, Nahyuta thinks it's all Apollo's fault. Apollo always got sick first, and Nahyuta invariably got it next from taking care of him. Father had important business to attend to, so he wasn't always around, and whenever he wasn't, Apollo was Nahyuta's responsibility. Fortunately, they were only a year apart, and Apollo was fun to play with, but illness treated him so much better than it did Nahyuta.

The cold towel pressed to his brow startles him, and he jumps, green eyes flying open.

"Ah, I'm sorry!" Apollo gasps, and the noise stabs straight through his skull. "Sorry," the younger boy properly whispers this time, barely above a breath, easing him slowly back down to dab at his forehead gently with the cold towel. "I'm sorry you're so sick because of me."

It's hard to resent the kid when Apollo clearly feels so bad about it though.

"As the older brother, it's my responsibility t—"

"But you're not even my real brother!"

Nahyuta flinches away from the outburst — the words sting. He remembers the day Father brought Apollo home and told Nahyuta he had a new baby brother. He remembers thinking those brown hair and eyes didn't belong, and maybe Father brought Apollo back because he wasn't enough now that Mother was gone. He remembers Father telling him that both of Apollo's parents were gone, and it hurt enough to lose Mother that it was easy to feel sorry for Apollo who would endure twice that pain. Then Father put the baby down beside him, and Apollo immediately reached up to touch his cheek with a contented smile like… like they'd always been together, and—

He'd believed Apollo adored him from that very first moment, and it didn't take long for him to reciprocate. Apollo had a mysterious knack for knowing when Nahyuta was upset, and he always tried to make Nahyuta happy, so it was easy to love him. Even now, his face falls.

"Ah, no, I didn't mean it like that!" Small hands wring the cold towel as Apollo shifts closer. "I mean… I know you and Dhurke aren't my real family, but you're always so nice… Like, you don't have to be, you know? But you are. And I wish you were. My real family, I mean. I want to be with you forever."

"Then you never have to leave, Apollo," Father declares, walking in with a bowl in hand.

The boy brightens. "Really?"

"Of course!" Father sits down by his side, sets the bowl down and ruffles Apollo's hair. "It'll be great to have you two looking out for each other." He helps Nahyuta sit up, and the room spins. "Especially with how Nahyuta here gets at the slightest hint of illness. Har-har-har!"

Nahyuta squeezes his eyes shut, turning away —in spite of everything, he'd be lying if he said he was never jealous— but then Apollo is arranging the pillows behind him, and he's not sure whom he's jealous of. His stomach settles, and the room seems to stabilize, as he leans back into the pile of pillows. Father feeds him small dumplings in thick broth, Apollo's gentle fingers sweep his hair out of his face as he tilts his head to eat, and Nahyuta realizes that he _has_ been blessed. Father is here instead of outside doing important things, and Apollo, who has plenty of reason to envy him, really has always adored him.

"Yuty! Guess what I've got for you!" Datz holds up a paper bag —did he come in through the window?— with his big goofy grin, and Nahyuta silently prays to the Holy Mother it's his medicine.

"Datz!" Apollo hisses, and it's ironic he's the one asking people to quiet down. Turning to Nahyuta with concerned brown eyes, he asks, "Are you okay?" and Nahyuta smiles helplessly — as the older one, he's supposed to be the protector, but it's warm when Apollo wraps a protective arm around his shoulders, warm inside, and he leans into it.

"Yes."

"Good. I won't forgive anyone who hurts Nahyuta. Not even Datz," Apollo declares, scowling at the man.

"Big words, AJ." Datz smirks, hands on his hips now that Father has taken the bag from him. "You'd better back them up when the time comes."

"Y—!" Apollo hurriedly clamps his hand over his mouth, looking apologetic. "I will," he promises, more quietly but no less firmly. "Justice will strike them down!"

He leaps over Nahyuta to tackle Datz, and the man laughs as he catches Apollo and wrestles him to the ground. They're making plenty of noise, but it makes Nahyuta smile, and Father laughs along as Datz chases Apollo out of the room. Ever since Apollo learned the meaning of his last name, he's been going out of his way to insert it in conversation, and it's endearingly silly. Father hands Nahyuta some medicine —two mini cups of syrup and four pills— and he grimaces at the bitterness and chemical aftertaste. He washes it down with broth and water, but the stuff clings to his tongue and throat, and he can't get the taste out of his mouth.

"Nahyuta?" It's Apollo again — he's run back in, and he's holding something out. "Peach candy?"

When he takes it, Apollo beams — he usually bribes Apollo with candy to take medicine because he hates the taste, and while he doesn't need convincing to take his medication, it's thoughtful of Apollo to offer him candy to cover the unpleasant taste. Peach is Nahyuta's favorite, too.

"Nahyuta, do you want the light?" Father asks, empty bowl and medicine bag in hand, as he stands by the switch beside the door — night is falling, and it's growing dark.

"No, Father. I'll get some more rest." Perhaps when he wakes up, the medicine will have worked, and he'll feel better.

"All right. I'll be outside with Datz. Apollo, will you watch him?"

"Of course! Where there is Justice, Nahyuta will never be alone!"

Apollo immediately climbs onto the bed to start arranging the pillows for him to lie back down, and Father smiles fondly.

"Har-har-har! I'm counting on you, Apollo," he calls over his shoulder as the door closes behind him.

Nahyuta hopes that the medicine will kick in soon — although Apollo is careful to lower him gently, everything aches. A night breeze blows in through the window, carrying the fresh scent of dewy grass, and he pulls the blankets up around himself.

"Are you cold? Should I close the window?"

"N—no." He likes the fresh air, but it _is_ unusually cold.

"Liar." Apollo slips under the blanket beside him and pulls him close, so he's half draped over the younger boy. "You're shivering."

"D—don't d—do that. Y—you'll get sick again."

Instead of obeying, Apollo settles in and combs his fingers through Nahyuta's hair. "I just recovered. I'll be fine."

"T—that's not how it works, you— you pohlkunkan." But Apollo has been quick to learn Nahyuta's weaknesses — even now, he feels himself relaxing into the touch, starting to drift off.

"Dhurke will be mad if he hears you say that," Apollo giggles, rubbing circles into his scalp.

"Hmph." Nahyuta gives in, snuggling closer — Apollo smells like the reeds by the riverbank where he must have been playing earlier, and it's earthy, familiar, comforting. "I learned it from him."

Still giggling, Apollo turns to rub their noses — their 'good night' gesture. "You know I won't tell. Good night, Nahyuta. I love you."

He closes his eyes, sinking into the other's warmth as the aches fade. "Good night, Apollo. I love you, too."


	3. Colors

**Prompt:** Inspired by a few prompts above.

This probably goes against canon in some way but his eyes appear quite different from the rest of his family's and resemble those of a blind person. OP actually thought Nahyuta was blind before playing the game given how his eyes look very different from any other character in the series and the lack of eye whites present in his eyes.

Explanation aside, OP here would love a fill exploring Nahyuta's life as a blind person and how it perhaps caused him to be treated differently in the work force or using meditation and religion to manage and accept his blindness. Anything with a Blind!Nahyuta is good in my books!

* * *

 **Colors**

Nahyuta can't pinpoint when he first realized he was different, when he noticed that other people seemed to have some vital information he was missing, or when he figured out that the world wasn't just darkness for everyone else. It takes time before he can tell between places or directions — mostly, Father or Mother turned him around before he collided with anything, and now he feels his way around with his hands. He has to remember where things are, and the others keep things in the same place to help, so there's a certain clarity to the day they moved.

There was heat and smoke, then cool night air, and when they were indoors again, everything was… wrong. The place smelled different —not like Mother and Father— and everything was in the wrong shape and place. He hated it, but then Father explained why they were here and why he couldn't hear or smell Mother anymore, and suddenly, none of that mattered. Mother was gone — there were bigger things wrong than the shape, place and smell of things.

In the midst of his grief, Father set a small bundle beside him on the bed. It didn't smell very nice, and it was making the worst din with its loud, gross crying.

"This is Apollo," Father said, guiding Nahyuta's hands to the baby's face. "He lost his mother and father the same night we lost your mother. Do you think, maybe, he can stay with us for a little while?"

Surprisingly, when Nahyuta's fingers reached damp, chubby cheeks, Apollo quieted down to mere sniffles.

"Har-har-har! I think he likes you, Nahyuta. He's smiling now. He hasn't stopped crying since I found him."

Smiling… Nahyuta still doesn't know what that means, other than it's something people do when they're happy, but then tiny hands grabbed his own, and "Pollo! Pollo!" the infant shouted with sudden excitement.

(Oh. Um…) He guided the hands gripping his own slowly to his face and said, "Nahyuta."

With a gurgle, the baby tried, "Uh-yu-tuh?"

"No, no. Nahyuta," he repeats more slowly.

"Uh, Yuty!" Apollo exclaimed with a giggle, oddly triumphant despite how far off he was, and took Nahyuta's fingers into his mouth.

Nahyuta opened his mouth to protest, then realized it was futile. Torn between warmth and resignation, he sighed — yes; yes, of course Apollo could stay.

* * *

"Nahyuta, what's it like?"

Apollo has since learned to say his name properly, but it's too late — the nickname stuck, and Datz will never call him anything else. Apollo still uses it sometimes, too — Nahyuta doesn't hate it.

"What is what like?"

They're side by side in bed, arms just touching, and Apollo will probably never learn to whisper. In a way, the loudness is helpful — the sound of Apollo's voice tells him about the place they're in, whether it's inside or outside, big or small, cluttered or empty, what kind of surfaces are around.

"You know… not seeing?"

"Oh. Hmm…"

He used to think that maybe seeing was an adult thing, that he'd grow up and be able to see like Father and Datz, but it soon became clear that Apollo could see — Father uses words like "look" and "watch" with Apollo, words he's always careful not to use with Nahyuta.

Apollo learns things differently, too — Nahyuta learned numbers by counting sounds, but Apollo didn't need sounds to count. He also doesn't need to touch things to know their size, shape and place, and he always had different ways of describing the things around them, words that Nahyuta needed explained.

Sometimes, he's envious, jealous — he wants to know what everything and everyone looks like, too, and he wonders if maybe Father likes Apollo better. Apollo even wants to be a defense attorney, just like Father. Besides, he couldn't really help Father take care of Apollo before, and now it often feels like Apollo is helping to take care of him.

Sometimes, he's afraid they secretly think he's a useless burden that would be easier to live without.

But Apollo leads Nahyuta to places, puts new things in his hands to discover and describes the things he can't touch. After he learned to read, he always read aloud, so Nahyuta could enjoy the book, too. And just today, when they visited the town, Apollo pulled some kind of prank on the people that caused a massive commotion because he was angry that they kept whispering things like "cursed child" and "divine retribution" about Nahyuta. Of course, Nahyuta told him it was a bad thing to do, but Apollo only stubbornly declared, "Well, those… those pohlkunkan need to learn that they can't be mean to you. Justice is on your side."

He doesn't know why Apollo sticks with him when he could play with all the normal, seeing kids in town, why Apollo always brings him along when it would be better not to be associated with the Sahdmadhis, but it's… sweet. He hopes Apollo will always be this way.

"You know how you talk about switching the lights on or off?" he asks after some thought.

"Mmhm?"

"Well, for me, the only thing that happens is the sound of the switch being flipped."

"Oh." Apollo falls silent, like he only does when he's thinking hard. "Then that means… the only color you know is black?"

Color… Colors… another thing Nahyuta doesn't understand.

"I suppose so."

* * *

"Nahyuta, can you feel the sun?"

They're outside (Apollo's voice doesn't echo), and Apollo is leading him somewhere by the hand. Beneath his feet, the ground is soft, and it rustles as he walks. The breeze smells fresh and sweet as it tousles his hair, and he can hear the sound of running water gradually becoming louder.

"You mean the warmth from above?"

"Yeah. It gives us light, too, and it looks yellow now."

"Yellow," he repeats as they stop.

"And when it's out, the sky is blue. Later though, when it starts to set, the sun will be orange."

Blue… like Father — Apollo says he's always wearing blue. And orange like the citrus scent and tang of the fruit.

Apollo has been trying to teach Nahyuta colors, but Nahyuta has no frame of reference, so they've been looking for tangible things to associate the colors with. So red is like strawberries and peppers, white is like clean laundry, gold is like the bracelet on Apollo's wrist, and so on.

"When the sun is orange, the sky is purple, and it's pretty like your hair."

"Purple?" The last thing Apollo said was purple was… "Like an eggplant?"

"No, no, lighter, more like… more like taro."

"Oh." He frowns —colors are complicated, with so many shades of each one— and thinks of taro — it's quite tasty when cooked, but…

"Aha! Wait a sec, I think I've found just the thing!"

He hears the sound of running, feels footsteps reverberate in the ground beneath his feet. Then there's rustling, something snaps, and Apollo is running back to him.

"Here." He places something light and soft in Nahyuta's hand, then combs his fingers through Nahyuta's hair, tucking some errant strands behind his ear. "The color of your hair is just like this flower, the prettiest purple in aaall the world."

Nahyuta lifts it to his nose —it smells lovely, a diffuse sweetness with a sharp, herby complexity— and commits the scent to memory — he likes the idea.

"Oh, and— N— Watch out!"

He took a step, but the ground wasn't where he thought it was, so he misplaced his foot, and now he's falling.

"Ack!"

There's a thud as Apollo hits the ground heavily and a second one as Nahyuta lands atop him.

"Ngh!"

"Ow-ow-ow…"

Nahyuta quickly gets onto his knees to shift his weight off. "Apollo, are you okay?"

"Yeah… I think."

"How did you fall?"

"Oh, uh…" He hears Apollo scratch his head — he does that when he's nervous or sheepish. "I overbalanced when I tried to catch you."

Catching a fall or being overprotective feels like his job —he's a year older, after all— but because of this flaw…

Apollo's fingers are gentle when they pry his fingers out of the fist they've curled into. "The grass we were walking on is green." He folds Nahyuta's fingers around several thin, flat dewy blades, and that must have been the rustling as they walked. "Your eyes are green, too," he continues, fingertips brushing Nahyuta's temple as they sweep some hair out of his face, and his frustration melts away. "But different. Shining. The prettiest green in the whooole wide world."

"You're just saying that."

"No, it's true. And your cheeks are turning pink." Apollo giggles, poking them.

Well, they're certainly very warm now. "And what about your hair and eyes?" he changes the subject.

"Brown," Apollo answers immediately. "Like chocolate!" He feeds Nahyuta a piece, and it's sweet, rich and creamy.

"Then it must be the loveliest brown in the world," he reasons, leaning towards Apollo, and the other shifts closer to wrap an arm around him.

"I hope so. I don't think I'm as pretty as you, though."

"Why do you keep saying that?" He knows the meaning of the word, but can't picture what makes someone pretty.

"What, that you're pretty? Because it's true. Dhurke says so, too. He says you look juuust like your mother, and she was reeeaaally beautiful."

Mother… he can no longer remember her scent or her voice, but it must be worse for Apollo, for whom "parents" are little more than a bracelet he can't remove.

"So what's your favorite color?" he asks as they lean into each other's sides.

"Red," Apollo answers without hesitation. "Like the shirt I'm wearing now."

Red… "So you're like a red pepper?"

"H—huh? Why a pepper? Why not a tomato or curry or— or… Why not a strawberry?"

"Because a pepper is spicy." Nahyuta giggles. "Like you are loud."

"H—hey!"

But he only laughs along as the breeze picks up again.

"Can you see the breeze, Apollo?"

"No. I mean, you can see what it does… like blow the leaves of trees and stuff, but the air itself is clear, so you can't s— Oh, but water and glass are clear, too, but you can see them, so I guess… ugh, I wish I could explain it better."

"No." Nahyuta rests his hand on the other's knee. "Thank you for trying so hard for me." Sometimes, he's afraid Apollo will tire of him and find someone easier to be with. Maybe it's only a matter of time. Still, he asks, "What about the peach?" Apollo brought him a new fruit yesterday, and it was delicious, his new favorite.

"That's kinda like… halfway between pink and orange, but softer."

That sounds nice, and he smiles. He's learned the names for certain movements of facial muscles now, but he still doesn't know what they "look" like.

"Are you smiling, Apollo?"

"I'm always smiling when I'm with you, Yuty," comes the reply, quick and unthinking. "You make me happy."

The words make warmth blossom in his chest, and he reaches for Apollo's face, traces the upward curve of his lips and the contours of his features with his fingertips — Apollo's face changes a bit every few months, so he keeps relearning it.

Warm hands come up to cover his own, then Apollo's lips are touching the insides of his wrists. Father calls that a kiss, a sign of affection, and places one on his forehead sometimes, so he leans forward to place one on Apollo's cheek before resting his head on Apollo's shoulder.

"Then I hope I'll always make you happy."

* * *

"But—but— But what about Nahyuta?!"

"Nahyuta isn't an American citizen. He can't go with you."

Nahyuta sits in silence, knees folded and arms wrapped around himself, as Father and Apollo fight over Apollo being sent back to the United States. Father has learned that Mother isn't dead, only held prisoner, so he intends to rescue her, but that means they'll be pursued, and it won't be safe.

"But Nahyuta c— I don't want to leave him!"

(Can't see? Can't live alone?) The latter is untrue —he's learned to do many things by himself, even cook simple dishes and walk down the mountain path to town with a staff— but he remains silent — he doesn't want Apollo to leave either.

"Look, it's for your own safety—"

"Well, if it's not safe for me, then it's not safe for Nahyuta either!"

"B—"

"Then I'll go to the temple," he interjects, tired. "The clergy will shelter anyone who wants to devote themselves to the Holy Mother's teachings." (Even sons of alleged criminals.)

There's a pause, then—

"You heard the boy."

"ARRGH! I HATE YOU!"

Nahyuta doesn't know whether that was directed at him or Father, but he cringes, flinches again as the bedroom door slams shut.

Father comes over and squeezes his shoulder. "Thank you for understanding, son. You've always been a great kid."

He hums numbly.

"Apollo will— He'll come around."

"No." Father doesn't understand Apollo like he does. "But he will accept his powerlessness eventually."

"R—right. And uh… I guess… The temple would be good. Your mother is a Grand Priestess, you know? She'd be mad I never properly taught you the Scriptures."

"Mm."

"I'm uh… going to make dinner. Is there anything specific you want?"

Well, peaches aren't in season right now, but "Your yak and cheese curry is Apollo's favorite." And soon, he won't get to eat it anymore.

"I a—" Father sighs. "Yak and cheese curry it is then."

With another pat on the shoulder, Father heads to the kitchen, and Nahyuta quietly feels his way to the bedroom he shares with Apollo.

As soon as he opens the door, Apollo yells, "GO AWAY!" wetly — he's crying; of course he is.

"Apollo, it's—"

"I SAID, GO AWAY!"

He winces —something hits the door, probably a pillow from the sound— and shuts the door again. There's a tightness in his chest and behind his nose that he hasn't felt in a long time, and he's glad Father is too busy in the kitchen to see him cry. He goes to sit by the open window, finding it by the breeze — fresh air, he needs fresh air. He wipes his face with his sleeve — Apollo is mad at him, too, then. And he knows Apollo has to go —maybe it'll be good for him, too, to be with normal people instead of spending all his time with Nahyuta— but he can't bear the thought that things will end like this.

He doesn't know how much time passes — Apollo would refer to the position of the sun, the color of the sky or the amount of light, but in the endless darkness that is his world, it's hard to have a concept of time. Eventually, though, Father announces that dinner is ready, and that he's heading out to take care of some important business, but they should eat while it's hot instead of waiting for him. He only hums noncommittally as Father hurries out the front door.

Now that the sounds of cooking have ceased and Father's footsteps have faded out of hearing, the house is silent, empty, like it will be when Apollo is gone, and that's why he has to leave, too — the thought of living here without Apollo is simply unbearable. For too long, the warmth of Apollo's hands and the sound of Apollo's voice have been his surest proof that he's not alone in his cold, empty world. Like the light Apollo keeps talking about, Apollo's presence made the darkness livable. But he's always known that he can't live like this forever, that someday, he'll have to let Apollo go. Now that he has a date for that someday, though…

Behind him, the bedroom door creaks open, and he surreptitiously wipes his face again — he needs to behave like the older one here for a change and be strong.

"The sky is grey," Apollo remarks with a sniffle. "It's probably going to rain."

Grey, huh… It's true — he can smell the water on the breeze.

When he doesn't answer, Apollo comes over to wrap his arms around Nahyuta from behind. "I'm sorry, Yuty. I'm sorry for earlier. I didn't mean to—"

"Yes, you did," Nahyuta interjects softly. "You were upset with me, weren't you?"

"W—well, yes. I mean, why didn't you put up a fight? Don't you want us to stay together?"

(Yes. Yes, more than anything, but…) "You wish for me to ask my father not to rescue my mother from captivity?" And he knows that's not fair — that's not what Apollo meant at all, but that would be the only way to stay as they are.

"What? No! Of course not! I—" He stops, then slumps into Nahyuta. "No. You're right. I'm sorry. And if it were you imprisoned, I wouldn't listen anyway."

Nahyuta isn't sure whether Apollo meant to compare their relationship to the one between Mother and Father, but he doesn't mind. Leaning back into Apollo, he says, "I asked Father to make yak and cheese curry."

"Don't," Apollo mumbles into his hair. "You're acting like I'm leaving tomorrow."

He covers the hands over his middle with his own. "No, not tomorrow. But please understand. You have to go."

Apollo nuzzles his shoulder. "No, no, I don't. I can go to the temple with you."

Nahyuta laughs through his tears. "You can barely sit still for five minutes, Apollo. All that silent meditation will be the death of you."

"I'll learn," the other insists stubbornly, and Nahyuta feels like his heart might burst. "Justice will prevail."

"Well, Father said it's only for a little while. Don't you want to know what your parents' country is like?"

"Not without you to share it with."

(You say that now,) but Apollo is a wonderful person. If he weren't always with the national pariahs, he'd have a million friends. He'll find someone to share his life with, someone better, normal. "Then you must go."

"N—"

"Apollo…" Nahyuta laces their fingers. "Listen. I don't even know what this house or this mountain looks like. Without you to describe everything to me, the entire world would be little more than empty space and obstacles of different sizes and shapes, regardless of whether I'm in America or Khura'in. For you, there is so much out there to see. For me, it is enough for you to go and return to tell me all about it."

"But there are different sounds and smells and tastes, too," Apollo argues — that's something they all have in common: Apollo, Nahyuta, Father, Datz, none of them give up easily.

"Of course, and maybe someday I'll get to experience those with you. But you won't be a very good guide if you're going for the first time, too, would you?"

"I—I guess not."

Suddenly, a gust of wind blows a sprinkle of water into his face, and he hears raindrops begin to patter on the roof. Apollo lets him go and stands to close the window, then he's back with a piece of cloth, maybe a handkerchief, and dabbing at Nahyuta's face to dry it.

He'll miss Apollo. Every moment that they're apart, no matter how brief. And Apollo will go now — he's made sure of that.

So he covers Apollo's hand with his own, presses it to his cheek and leans into the touch, draws a shuddering breath as he memorises the indentations of Apollo's palm and the thrum of his pulse.

And suddenly, their lips are touching — a kiss, but different somehow. They've never kissed each other's lips before.

"I saw people do this in town the other day," Apollo explains when they part. "It looked nice. They seemed happy."

"Yes." There's an intimacy to it, like a secret only they share. "I like it very much."

"Good," he murmurs, twining his fingers in Nahyuta's hair. "I'm glad."

He sits down and does it again, and Nahyuta embraces him, guides Apollo's head to rest on his shoulder when it's over. With his cheek pressed to Apollo's high brow, he rocks them back and forth, inhaling deeply to engrave the scent of the other boy into his memory.

"I'll miss you," Apollo says sadly, playing with Nahyuta's hair. "You never needed any explanations to understand me."

"What can I say, you're a simple red pepper," he teases with a chuckle, pinching Apollo's cheek lightly.

"Well, Dhurke couldn't," Apollo huffs, and he laughs — even since Apollo was a baby, whenever he cried, it was usually Nahyuta who correctly interpreted the reason. "And who's going to fuss over me when I'm sick, or carry me home when I can't walk?"

"Someone you won't have to guide home," he replies drily.

That one time Apollo sprained his ankle, he'd had to give Nahyuta step-by-step directions back to their room, and of course Nahyuta does his best to care for Apollo whenever the boy is sick, but that's hardly one-sided. Whenever Nahyuta fell ill, Father worried like any parent would, naturally —got the doctor and medicine and whatever else he needed— but Apollo acted like Nahyuta was going to die.

"Well, I don't _want_ anyone else," Apollo retorts petulantly. "I want you."

"Heh. When the time comes, you'll accept any help you can get. And you _will_ have help. I'm sure of it."

"You… You'll be okay?" Apollo asks finally. "W—without me?"

"Oh, Apollo… I'll miss you, I'll miss you dearly, but I do know how to live independently, you know."

"Ugh, sorry, that came out wrong. But c'mon, you know that's not what I meant."

He smirks. "No, of course you didn't mean to imply I couldn't live without you."

"If anything," Apollo pokes him in the ribs, "I meant to say that _I_ can't live without _you._ "

"Now you're just being silly." Nahyuta gives him a brief squeeze. "Come, let's have dinner before it gets cold."

"Okay."

Apollo stands and helps him up, then leads him to the dining table and serves them both some bread and curry. It's delicious — Father is certainly better at cooking than cleaning, and he has Apollo to thank for keeping the place clean and uncluttered. He helps in any way that he can, of course, and as time passes, he's learned to do more and more chores. He'll probably learn more at the temple.

"The temple," he says quietly at length. "When the time comes, you'll take me there, won't you?"

Apollo reaches over to squeeze his hand. "Of course! I won't let anyone or anything stop me. And when I get back, I'll tell you all about America. Then when we go there together, I'll be the best guide there ever was!"

He smiles, squeezing back. "I'll hold you to that."

* * *

The temple is a nexus of sound — bells, gongs, cymbals, wooden fish, singing bowls, dahmalans, singing and chanting. It's calming, drowns out the emptiness Apollo left behind and helps Nahyuta find his way around.

The head monk tells him he needs to keep his hair out of the way, but he can't bear to cut off something Apollo loved so much, so he learns to braid it, wakes up earlier to get it tidy for the day, and one day, he finds an incense that smells much like the flower Apollo said was the color of his hair. It's called lavender, he learns, and he stops using anything else.

It is at the temple that he finally learns to read. They have copies of the Scriptures in embossed print that he can feel —a system they call Braille— so he must first learn the Braille alphabet, then the Classical Khurainese language of the Scriptures that it represents.

By the time he can study the interpretation of the Scriptures in depth, days have turned into weeks, months, seasons and years. He hears the news, hears the rumors. Father and Mother are caught, Father escapes during the celebration of the princess' birth, Datz is arrested along with some other insurgents, Datz breaks out, the Justice Minister establishes a secret police, and so on — Father and the others have been busy. The revolution is gaining support, and in response, the Ga'ran administration is cracking down harder on the Defiant Dragons than ever. But that means it hasn't gotten any safer. That means he hasn't seen any of the Dragons since he left. That means Apollo still can't return.

But maybe that's all right.

Maybe Apollo is happy there. Maybe he's found someone else, someone who doesn't constantly need his help.

So Nahyuta immerses himself in his study and training. The teachings of the Holy Mother make plenty of sense, and prayer brings him acceptance and peace. And as he meditates on the sutras, he discovers that he can sense the people around him with his mind, sense the connections between people and things. Different people and things feel different, and for the first time, the colors Apollo taught him so long ago now have meaning beyond words and arbitrary associations — they become a way for him to think about, organize and categorize these impressions.

The head monk says he's gifted and puts a name to his ability: he can "see" auras and the karmic threads that connect things. With practice, he grows stronger, the impressions grow clearer, and he becomes increasingly well known for helping people find things.

When the police first show up, he expects to be arrested. Instead, he's asked to help with a missing person's case, the first of many. The cases grow to include smuggling and theft, and eventually word of his ability reaches the palace. When the Justice Minister asks if he can find all the Defiant Dragons, he answers truthfully: it is impossible to differentiate between the many groups of people united in common purpose. They don't believe him, of course —he's the rebel leader's son, after all— and send him to prison, but no amount of investigation contradicts the truth: he hasn't had any contact with his father, and he doesn't know anything about the Defiant Dragons anymore.

To his surprise, they don't execute him. He returns to the temple, to the usual routine, but he knows that he's being watched, tested, that the only reason he's alive is because Inga or Ga'ran think he might lead them to Father. Every so often, the authorities bring him a group of people and ask him to point out the ones who share a common purpose, but in prison, he figured out how to tell — the Defiant Dragons are a connection he shares with otherwise complete strangers. So he lies — because he knows the truth means execution. He lies, and he fears that, someday, they'll figure it out and execute him, too, that he'll go to the Twilight Realm without ever seeing Apollo again.

In truth, he's resigned himself to never seeing Apollo again. America is such a huge country, and he never knew where Father sent the boy. And because he gained this ability after Apollo left, he has no way of knowing which thread to follow. And who knows if Apollo even wants to see him again, if Apollo even remembers him? By now, the other could probably return to Khura'in without Father's help or blessing if he so wished, but he hasn't. Maybe Apollo _is_ happy. Maybe he's done the smart thing and moved on.

It is not till Interpol shows up that Nahyuta realizes he's even lied to himself.

* * *

It's several years into his work as a special consultant for Interpol before he finally gets a case in America. He's met at Los Angeles International Airport by an Interpol detective and prosecutor pair, both with experience working in the United States. Like most people, they're skeptical, but he does have a track record to back him up, so they brief him accordingly — this time, he's looking for a batch of smuggled weapons that have gone missing on American soil. They've caught a few of the smugglers, but the rest are still on the loose, and evidence suggests that they have American conspirators and buyers.

The detective has just advised him against suggesting some synonyms for the word "fool" when an officer of the local police bursts in — there's been a murder, and it was committed using one of their missing guns.

In no time at all, he's been packed into a car headed for the crime scene, and he hates murders, hates the stench of blood and death that sticks to his clothes and hair and skin, hates that the deceased never got to set their affairs in order and prepare for the Twilight Realm. As soon as he steps out, it hits him, and he says a prayer for their soul. He'll find their killer and solve this case, so they may rest in peace — as a humble servant of the Holy Mother, these are the best last rites he can offer.

Over the cacophony of what must be detectives, forensic experts and bystanders bustling around, he hears a girl's voice off to one side. "—terrible!" She sounds dismayed. "How are we going to investigate the crime scene now?!"

"Maybe once Interpol is— Wait." The young man stops mid-reply. "Is that…?"

Then there's approaching footsteps, running, and amidst the hundreds of threads spread out around him he "sees" it: it's peach, he thinks — pure, sweet, _beloved._

"Nahyuta, is that you?!"

And his voice is different, and his scent has changed, but there is no way Nahyuta wouldn't recognize the specific way Apollo takes his hands. He can't find any words when they embrace, even chokes up on the name as he basks in that brilliant red aura, all warmth and passion and _color._ He hasn't wept since his first night at the temple, but now the tears won't stop falling, and he can hear Apollo sobbing, too.

At length, Apollo leans back and breathes, "It's not fair. You're so tall now."

He laughs, bending his knees a bit. "No, you're just still a short red pepper. Still loud as ever, too."

"H—hey!" But Apollo only draws him close again, buries his face in Nahyuta's hair. "Oh wow… You even smell of lavender. God, I can't believe— I missed you." He tightens his embrace. "Yuty, I missed you so much. I thought about you every day, all the time. And I waited. I waited and waited for Dhurke to come get me, but…"

"I know," Nahyuta whispers, stroking Apollo's hair. "So did I."

Apollo steps back, but doesn't let go. They clasp each other's arms — afraid they'll disappear if they let go, that it'll turn out to all just be a dream.

"You mean you haven't…?"

"After he rescued my mother, I met them once. That was ten years ago."

"A little while, huh?"

Nahyuta sighs, "I should have known…" The last time Father had said "a little while," Apollo never left. "Still, it's only grown more dangerous back home. If you're convicted of being a rebel, they'll execute you for treason. Reports say someone gets executed every week." That doesn't make it better, he knows, but it's true that merely being a known associate of the Defiant Dragons could sign Apollo's death warrant on Khurainese soil.

"Yeah, I heard from Mr. Wright. There are no more defense attorneys there either, so even if they bothered trying any alleged insurgents, they'd all be found guilty anyway."

"Wright? As in Phoenix Wright? The one that recently visited Khura'in, fought a case there and won? You know him?"

"Haha, yeah, that's the one. He's my boss."

"Your— Pohlkunka! Then you're really…"

"Yup, a defense attorney," Apollo confirms — just like he'd always dreamed. "And this," he guides Nahyuta to face another person nearby —the aura is bright but gentle, like the nurturing warmth of the sun, yellow— "is my colleague, Athena Cykes. Athena, this is Nahyuta Sahdmadhi. We grew up together."

"O—oh!" She takes his hand and shakes it firmly. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Sahdmadhi."

"Ah…" Even as he turns Apollo's words over, he automatically replies, "No, the pleasure is mine, Ms. Cykes." A servant of the Holy Mother should always be polite, after all.

"Hey, Athena, I see Ema over there. Maybe you can get her to help us out?"

"Oh. Right. On it!"

She runs off towards a cluster of people, presumably one of the police teams on the case, leaving them alone. A smaller distance away, he can hear his colleagues from Interpol barking orders and questioning the people around — it doesn't look like he's needed yet.

"You know, when Mr. Wright said a friend of his was in Khura'in, I asked about you, but Ms. Fey said they could only tell her that you'd left a few years ago… just as I'd finally saved up enough to afford a trip back," and Nahyuta is sorry now, sorry he'd ever doubted Apollo. Just as he never could have gotten here without Interpol, Apollo must have had his own struggles.

"I confess I joined Interpol partly to come here, to find you. I am grateful that the Holy Mother has guided us to each other so quickly." He clasps Apollo's hands between his own in a quick prayer of thanks. "Truly, we are blessed."

"W—wow… You've really… What do you do at Interpol?"

"I find things. Or people."

"Huh?" It's only natural that Apollo would be confused — back when they'd been together, he could barely find a misplaced book in their room. "So you're an investigator?"

"Not exactly. They call me a special consultant. I can 'see' the karmic threads that tie a case together. So I lead the investigators towards related objects or people, and they do the rest. They usually send me when a trail has gone too cold to pick up by… more conventional methods."

"Th—that's incredible, Nahyuta." There isn't even a shade of skepticism in his voice. "Were you always able to and just didn't realize, or…?"

"No." Nahyuta holds his hand up, bringing the tips of his thumb and middle finger together, and a butterfly alights on the tip of his index finger. "The Holy Mother blessed me with this gift when I devoted myself to her teachings."

Apollo lets out an awed chuckle, shifting closer. "You really are… something special, Yuty."

Smiling, he asks, "Are you here for the case?" dropping his hand to Apollo's shoulder as the butterfly flies away.

"Yeah, my client has been arrested as the primary suspect, but he's not lying when he says he didn't kill the victim."

"How can you tell?"

"Oh, uh… Well, people get nervous when they're being questioned about things they're lying about or trying to hide, and they have tics — little behaviors that only show up when they're nervous. If I focus on them as they talk, I can catch these nervous tics, so I know which part of their testimony is problematic. Mr. Wright and Athena, too — they've got their own ways of figuring out when people are being dishonest. Mr. Wright has a different way of seeing when people are hiding things, and Athena can hear people's true emotions in their voices, so she can tell when people's feelings don't match what they say. Come to think of it," he chuckles, "I guess you'll fit right in."

"Interesting." Apollo seems to have found his own little family of gifted people here, and he wonders if the others will welcome him as readily as Apollo always seems to, if Apollo will have to choose. But that's a concern for a later time. "Was that always something you could do?"

"I… Yes… Yes, I think so. But you never lied to me." He says it matter-of-factly, but the implications are so sad.

"I'm sorry I left you alone." Nahyuta pulls him into another embrace. "I talked you into leaving because I thought it'd be best for you and that it'd only be a few months."

"Heh. Dhurke got us both good, huh…"

He hums, pressing his lips to the crown of Apollo's head. The other leans into him, and for a moment, it's like no time has passed, like they're just two boys alone in the mountains again, untouched by a world that would tear them apart.

"You were alone, too," Apollo whispers — still not quiet, but the surrounding noise makes up for that.

"Satorha. A servant of the Holy Mother is never alone."

It takes a second, but Apollo makes a sound of fond exasperation. "So… I guess we've got a case on our hands right now, but after the trial, when Justice is done, how about that tour I promised you?"

"When J—" He cracks up. "Holy Mother, I can't believe you still do that. When you started, I thought it a phase. When you didn't stop, I assumed you'd grow out of it. But at twenty-four…"

"Objection! Justice never grows old!"

He doubles over — oh, he hasn't laughed so hard since they parted ways all those years ago. "I truly have missed you."

"Yeah? Well, guess what else I haven't grown out of?"

Before he can ask, Apollo is kissing him, and it's like a drink of water in the Hell of Thirst. Everything is right. Everything is right again.

The Holy Mother gave him peace, but Apollo gives him _life._

He kisses back, following Apollo's lead, and takes Apollo's face in his hands, traces grown features with his fingertips, memorizes his beloved's face anew.

When they part, "I was afraid you'd—"

They stop, laugh and kiss again, and it's not till he hears the crack of a whip, terrified screaming and a pointed complaint about being surrounded by foolish fools fraternizing foolishly with the defense that he reluctantly pulls away.

"We should get to work," he murmurs ruefully, and Apollo steps back, hands lingering before he finally lets go.

"Yeah. I only have three days, tops, to prove my client innocent. I need to start investigating. Here, take this." A small card is pressed into his hand. It's… covered in Braille, proof Apollo never forgot. "Call me?"

"Of course." He'll never leave Apollo again.


	4. Before & After

**Prompt:** Apollo/Trans!Nahyuta

Anon here would reaaaaaaalllllllly like to see this ship with Trans!Nahyuta. I have no preference for fluff or smut: just make sure it's happy and positive. 8-D

* * *

 **Before & After**

Apollo rubs his eyes as the words start to blur on the page he's reading. It's been a long day, and he doesn't know where Nahyuta gets the energy — it must be hectic, running the kingdom as regent, but he's still diligently taking notes from the law book he's reading as a reference for this particular section they're drafting. Even as he watches, though, the other stifles a yawn, and a glance at the clock tells him it's eleven.

He stands, stretching. "Shouldn't we call it a night?"

Nahyuta finishes the sentence he's writing, then pauses to check the time. "I suppose we should. It has become quite late. Time seems to pass so quickly when you're busy." He rolls the scroll he's using up and uses the end of it to mark his page in the book before rising. "Once again, thank you for your help today, Apollo."

"You don't have to keep thanking me, you know," Apollo mumbles, scratching his head awkwardly. "I signed up for this."

Nahyuta smiles, warm and genuine like he remembers from their childhood, and replies, "I know, but you needn't have, so I'm grateful. May the Holy Mother reward your deeds abundantly."

 _Oh Nahyuta, what wouldn't I do for you? You had me at "I can't do this without you."_ But that would only make things more awkward, so Apollo merely smiles back. "Mind if I borrow your bathroom before I head out?"

"Of course not. Please."

By the time he comes back out, Nahyuta is sitting at the dresser, untying his hair, and it really takes him back. He used to brush Nahyuta's hair when they were children because he loved how soft and shiny it was. Admittedly, he'd also been pretty jealous — they used all the same hair products, and his hair never turned out that nice.

"May I?" he asks, approaching as Nahyuta picks the hairbrush up, but despite the surprise in green eyes reflected in the mirror, the other hands it over. Lifting a small section, he gently works the brush through it, and "It's as soft as I remember."

Chuckling, Nahyuta replies, "I couldn't possibly keep it this long if I didn't take good care of it."

"I'm actually kinda surprised you didn't cut it." Apollo would have thought that, as part of the transition, Nahyuta would get the most "masculine" haircut he could think of, but instead, it doesn't look like he ever did more than snip off split ends.

"The thought _has_ crossed my mind several times, but..." Nahyuta looks away as he trails off.

"But...?" Apollo prompts when it doesn't look like Nahyuta will continue.

The other smiles wistfully. "When I recall how much you loved it, I... didn't have the heart."

"Oh," is all he manages as he moves on to the next section, and _Geez, what kind of lawyer are you anyway? Do it Justice._ "Uh..." But he's drawing a blank because his brain has kinda short-circuited because _Wait. For me? You kept it for me?!_

"There's no need to shout," Nahyuta says pointedly with a wince, and—

"Oh my God, I said that out loud," he groans, mortified, keeping his eyes on the knot he's trying to untangle.

"Yes, and yes, in part. It's also a lot easier to cut it short than to grow it out, so since I couldn't make up my mind, I erred on the side that was easier to fix." Nahyuta has always been practical.

"Uh, so... If you don't mind me asking, when did you start?"

They've never talked about this before. In fact, he's been here for three months now, and they've barely discussed anything but work. Maybe that's safer ground though — they've fallen into old habits, but the truth is, he doesn't know where they stand anymore, and the more time he spends with Nahyuta, the more certain he is that he doesn't think of the other as just a friend.

"Almost as soon as Her Benevolence was born. Until then, Mother held out hope that there was a chance I might come into the channelling ability someday, and since Ga'ran wasn't having much success with conceiving an heir..." Nahyuta sighs, jewelry jingling as he shakes his head. "In any case, we all acknowledged then that Her Benevolence's spiritual power at birth was already greater than mine at fifteen. The Holy Mother be praised."

Right. Things aren't so simple when you're part of the royal family. Even if Nahyuta couldn't inherit the throne, he might have had to at least try to bear a child who could if neither Amara nor Ga'ran had successfully produced an heir. Regardless of his personal wishes, he had an obligation to his country, which meant trying his best to increase his spiritual power and learn spirit channelling in hopes of having a daughter that could also channel spirits, even if her true parentage would have to be hidden. And since only women could learn to channel spirits... Well, he's glad Nahyuta isn't suffering anymore. Honestly, knowing what he knows, Apollo is really glad to be a commoner here.

Speaking of the royal family though... "What about Ga'ran?" he asks tentatively. If she's not above using Rayfa to blackmail Nahyuta...

"Heh. Ga'ran? She was ecstatic. As long as no other woman of royal blood can channel spirits, no one could take her place as queen. If the ulterior motive had not been so overwhelmingly obvious, I might have appreciated the support."

Apollo doesn't really know what to say to that, so he settles for, "I see," and moves on to the next section of hair.

"You... don't think it's weird?"

"What—" But then he catches the meaningful look on Nahyuta's face in the mirror, and "Oh. O—" He stops, afraid it'll sound insincere. "No, not anymore," he answers honestly instead.

A pale eyebrow arches in question.

"C'mon, Nahyuta, I hadn't seen you in over ten years. I used to tell all the other kids I grew up with a lavender-haired Wonder Woman, you know? Strong, cool, beautiful and wise — although I suppose you'd rather I used a male comparison now. I never expected that the next time we met, you'd be a guy. Heck, until I saw you that day in court, I wasn't even sure it was you."

He'd been utterly confused when he first heard about "Prosecutor Sadhmadhi." Given Khura'in's recent history, surely, no one was naming their kids after any Sahdmadhi, but he remembers growing up with a girl, after all, and everyone said the new prosecutor was male. In hindsight, he realizes that Nahyuta had never been like any of the other girls he'd known at the time, but then again, Nahyuta had always been unlike any other, so he'd figured it was simply a Nahyuta thing — otherworldly.

"Don't get me wrong," he adds quickly before Nahyuta can misunderstand, even as he works at untangling another knot in lavender hair. "I don't mind at all." And he doesn't love Nahyuta any less or differently. "But, sure, it was weird. I was pretty shocked. I mean, it's not the kind of thing you see coming, you know?" His eyes flick up to green ones, but their reflected depths are unreadable. "You looked completely different," he continues, "it was surreal. But now that the surprise has worn off..." He shrugs, smiling fondly, meeting green eyes in the mirror. "Nahyuta, you're still you. And I'm not saying you should, since you're gorgeous exactly as you are, but I wouldn't feel any differently about you if you cut your hair either."

"And how exactly do you feel about me?"

His expression hasn't changed, but Apollo doesn't need his bracelet to notice how tightly Nahyuta is gripping his rosary. In truth, the question is confession enough — if Nahyuta wanted to remain as they are, he wouldn't need to ask.

"Heh. Times like these, I'm glad you're braver than me." He can indict Ga'ran with fifty rifles trained on him, but he'd probably have pretended his feelings were platonic forever if Nahyuta never asked, that the fanciful things he said twenty years ago were the mere ignorant ramblings of a toddler.

 _"When I grow up, I'm gonna be a defense attorney!"_

 _"Har-har-har! That's my boy!"_

 _"And then I'm gonna marry Nahyuta!"_

Dhurke and Datz had choked on their drinks and laughed it off, but he'd been completely serious — Nahyuta was perfect, and he wanted them to be together forever. It wasn't until high school that he started wondering if, maybe, Nahyuta had only indulged his adoration as an older sibling might.

It's funny — he guesses the more things change, the more they stay the same.

He leans down as Nahyuta turns, and the kiss is chaste but sweet, emphatic. Nahyuta relaxes, leaning back into him, and he wraps his arms around the other.

"Don't you remember I always said I wanted to marry you when I grow up?"

Nahyuta laughs. "Well, I'm not that little girl anymore."

"Hold it!" He steps around to face Nahyuta, resting his hip on the dresser. "Does that mean you won't marry me?!"

A beat, a confused blink, and then, "Hold it! You never even properly asked!"

"Okay, but say I did—"

"Satorha! That's not how it works, you po—"

"Objection!" He takes Nahyuta by the shoulders. "What if I still want to marry you?!"

"I—" Their gazes lock. "I thought you were going back after this, once we finish drafting the new legal system...?"

"Do you think you can't change my mind, or will you just 'let it go and move on'?"

Green eyes widen, then Nahyuta smirks. "Hmph." He stands, pressing the tattooed palm of his right hand over Apollo's heart. "You should know — a dragon never yields."

Grinning, Apollo covers the hand with his own. "I guess that means I'm not leaving tonight."

"Ever, Apollo," Nahyuta corrects mildly, leaning in for another kiss. "You're not leaving ever."


	5. Sincerity

**Prompt:** As kids, Apollo and Nahyuta made a promise they would marry each other when they grew up. That they would never leave each other's side.

From months to years past their reunion, Apollo remembers his childhood promise and asks for Nahyuta's hand in marriage.

* * *

 **Sincerity**

Leading a revolution is hard work, and Dhurke Sahdmadhi would be the first to admit he's not a very present father. But when revolutionary activities are done for the day, family dinner and tucking the boys in is something he can do, so he makes a point never to miss those. People think that, as a lawyer, he must be very good at making up stories, but he doesn't think his stories are appropriate for children. He can, however, read very animatedly —he used to be a street performer, after all— and it's heartening that Apollo and Nahyuta seem to enjoy his bedtime stories.

Tonight, he has one about a king attempting to woo a most beautiful princess who had, in the story so far, sent him a message, "thanking him but saying that she did not wish to marry."

"Dhurke, what does it mean to marry?" Apollo interjects.

He sets the book down on his lap. "Uh…" The first thing that comes to mind is the legal definition, but that's probably too complex for a toddler. "Well, it's when two people promise to love and take care of each other forever."

The Sutra of Union, at least, included vows to love, care for and increase each other in faith and piety even unto the Twilight Realm, and he hopes neither Apollo nor Nahyuta will ask what happens if someone breaks that promise yet.

Fortunately, Nahyuta is already sleepy, but Apollo —ever the more energetic of the two— seems to be thinking hard. "In that case," he muses slowly, "can I marry Nahyuta?"

"W—what?!"

Dhurke looks up, realizing he wasn't alone in his shocked outburst, to find Nahyuta sitting up, now wide awake.

"I can't…?" Apollo looks from him to Nahyuta and back, crestfallen. "Why not?"

"Uh…" How is he going to explain this one?

"We're both boys," Nahyuta points out flatly, and at least that's out of the way.

Apollo blinks slowly. "So? Why can't I promise to love and take care of you forever?"

Before Nahyuta can answer, Dhurke quickly says, "Of course you can. But to marry someone is also a lot more than that, and so there are laws about it. Here in Khura'in, the laws say that the two people who marry must be a boy and a girl."

He'll admit he didn't see this one coming, but they're always together, after all. He probably shouldn't be so surprised.

Again, Apollo furrows his brow. Then he asks, "But why?" Brown eyes drop to the floor sadly. "What if there is no girl I want to promise that to?"

The other boy remains silent, but his expression is downcast, and it breaks a father's heart. He won't be the one to suggest they remain alone forever if they never find a girl they like.

"Well," Dhurke says, slowly to think the words through, "in some places, Apollo, people think like you. So they had a revolution and changed the laws. Now any two people can marry there."

"Oh." Apollo immediately brightens.

But it's Nahyuta who asks, "Father, will your revolution change that, too?"

To be honest, it's not something he's thought about before, but if it will make his sons happy, "Yes," he can certainly include it.

* * *

"Gotcha!" Apollo cries, snatching off the hair-tie and sprinting away.

"Apollo!" Nahyuta yells sternly and starts chasing after him, lavender hair falling loose and streaming out behind in the wind. "Give it back!"

"Only if you catch me!" The brunet shouts back, glancing over his shoulder with a grin.

"Agh!" Suddenly, his foot snags.

"Apollo!" Nahyuta screams his name in concern this time as he falls, flailing.

"Waaa—OW!" He hits the ground by the tree, barely breaking his fall with his arms, and rolls over on the grass, crying — it hurts; it hurts everywhere.

"Holy Mother, Apollo, are you all right?" Nahyuta falls to his knees beside him and checks his injuries. "Apollo?"

He wails, rolling into Nahyuta's comforting warmth, and the older boy sighs in relief.

"Oh, thank Her Holiness… Watch where you're going next time," he chides gently, folding Apollo into his arms.

It still hurts, but the pain is slowly receding, and Nahyuta is rubbing his back — it's warm, and it feels nice. He clings to Nahyuta, burying his face in the other's shoulder to ride out his sobs.

"Shh… It's okay now. You're fine."

"I'm fine," he mumbles, sniffling, and he does feel better. "I'm fine," he repeats for good measure, drying his eyes.

"Good." Nahyuta pries the hair-tie out of his fisted hand.

He hangs his head. "Sorry…"

"If you were truly sorry," Nahyuta replies placidly as he reties his hair, "you wouldn't do it again."

"But you look so much prettier with your hair down!" Apollo protests. Sometimes, he's a bit jealous — Nahyuta gets prettier every day.

When he glances up, green eyes are wide, and fair skin is flushed. "L—let's get you cleaned up," Nahyuta says hurriedly, helping him up and leading him back inside to wipe him down with a damp washcloth and put some antiseptic on his cuts and scrapes.

"Nahyuta, will you marry me when we grow up?" Nahyuta already loves and takes care of him, and he wants to reciprocate, hopefully forever. "If we can't marry here, then let's go somewhere we can."

"W—well…" The older boy intently affixes a band-aid over a bigger cut. "It's customary when asking for such things to show your sincerity somehow."

"Oh. How do I do that?"

Looking away, Nahyuta says, "It only counts if you think of it yourself. Now, go change, Apollo. Your clothes are a mess."

"Okay." As he goes to their room, Apollo thinks very hard. What can he do to show Nahyuta his sincerity?

* * *

"Apollo!" Nahyuta calls, looking around the house. "Apollo?" The younger boy is nowhere to be found. He frowns, worried. He doesn't know what he'd do if Apollo went missing. He steps outside and tries again, louder. "Apollo!"

"Over here!"

It seems to come from a distance, but though he shades his eyes from the sunlight with his hand and searches around, he can't see the boy.

"Here!"

This time, he pinpoints the direction of the sound and turns to face it, but—

"Up here!"

He sees Apollo waving, finally, and his heart plummets. "Apollo!" he cries, sprinting to the peach tree down the slope, heart pounding frantically in horror. "What are you doing?!"

From a branch halfway up the tree, Apollo grins, triumphant. "Showing my sincerity!"

"What?!" he gasps, skidding to a stop below.

"You like peaches, don't you? Those are ripe!" He points to the fruits hanging from a slightly higher branch.

"Well, yes, but—"

"I'm going to pluck them for you!" Apollo declares gallantly.

Nahyuta's eyes widen with sheer panic as the other resumes climbing the tree. "What?! Apollo, no! Holy Mother, Apollo, get back down here!"

"It's just a little higher!"

"No, Apollo! It's dangerous!" _Oh Holy Mother…_ Father would be so mad, but more importantly, he would never be able to live with himself if Apollo got hurt because of him. "Please, Apollo… Please come back down."

"But I've almost got it! Justice will prevail!"

Yes, and it looks so precarious on that branch — he's so scared, he's crying. "I don't care about that, Apollo! Please!" _Holy Mother, heed my prayer and keep him safe._ "Please just come back down!"

"But then you won't marry me!"

 _Oh Holy Mother of Boundless Mercy,_ "I will, all right?! I will! I'll marry you, Apollo, so won't you please, _please,_ just come back down already?!"

Just then, Apollo snags the peach he's reaching for. "Gotcha!" But he can't climb down while holding it, so "Nahyuta, catch!"

He drops it, and Nahyuta catches it easily, but he can't even be happy about it as he watches Apollo climb back down. "Please be careful," Nahyuta begs through his anxious tears. He loves Apollo more than anything, more than all the peaches in the world, and he feels faint with worry.

When Apollo finally reaches the ground, Nahyuta lets out the breath he's been holding and runs to throws his arms around the other. Drying his eyes and composing himself, he shakes the younger boy. "Apollo, you pohlkunkan! What were you thinking?! Do you know how dangerous that is?! What if you'd fallen and hurt yourself?!"

"I—it wasn't that high up…"

Apollo sounds apologetic, and Nahyuta is too relieved that the other boy is safe to even properly be angry. He takes Apollo by the shoulders to look straight into brown eyes.

"Promise me you'll never do anything so dangerous again."

Apollo nods. "Okay, I promise. Do you like the peach?"

Sighing, Nahyuta smiles helplessly. "I'd like anything if it's from you, Apollo."

"Yay!" The other smiles brightly and throws his arms around Nahyuta in a hug. "When I grow up, I'm going to marry you! And love and take care of you and make you happy forever!"

Chuckling in fond exasperation, Nahyuta steers Apollo back towards the house. "All right, all right. Now let's go eat this peach together."

"Okay!"

Admittedly, though, the sentiment makes him really happy.

* * *

Apollo scribbles notes furiously as he cross-checks several legal books, then reviews the clauses Nahyuta passed to him. After some thought, he makes some edits, then passes it back to the regent looking something else up beside him.

"Here, what if we worded it like this? That should cover all our bases."

Nahyuta sets the book he's reading down and takes the notepad they're using from Apollo. Watching as green eyes scan the page, Apollo can't help but marvel at how elegant and beautiful his childhood friend has grown. Not that he hasn't always thought Nahyuta pretty, but the years have truly worked wonders, and he doesn't know if it's the ascetic training, but now, it's as if Nahyuta walks on an entirely different plane of existence.

"Yes, I think that should suffice." Nahyuta smiles, ethereal, and Apollo realizes he's been staring at those soft-looking lips. "Excellent work, Apollo. I was right to ask for your help."

It makes Apollo shy, somehow, makes his heart skip a beat. He's always adored Nahyuta, but lately, he thinks the nature of his affection has changed… or at least grown less innocent. After all, the last time they'd spent so much time together, they were mere children, incapable of the romantic and sexual attraction he finds himself wrestling with now.

"T—thanks…" He scratches his head, then hurriedly grabs the book on the existing laws of Khura'in to defuse the sudden awkwardness. "M—moving on…"

As luck would have it, the next section is on marriage, and he groans internally.

Great — no escape from his fruitless thoughts.

He's never seen Nahyuta show any interest in anyone of any gender, as if the other lived in a bubble of otherworldly zen. And even if Nahyuta could be romantically interested in men, the regent could have his choice of the entire kingdom and possibly more. Moreover, Apollo isn't very well-versed in the politics of Khura'in, but it's likely that a prince would have to marry within the aristocracy anyway.

It would probably be best not to dwell on it, to "let it go and move on," as the prosecutor would say.

Shoving his distractions to the back of his mind, he starts reading, beginning with the legal definition of marriage: _The legal status, condition, or relationship that results from a contract by which one man and one woman…_

He stops, memories floating to the forefront of his mind. With sudden clarity, he remembers climbing a peach tree, asking Nahyuta to marry him and Dhurke saying two boys couldn't marry each other in Khura'in. He blinks at the book in his hand — now, they can change that, and maybe…

He turns. "Nahyuta."

"Yes?" The other sets his book down again to give him full attention.

Apollo opens his mouth, then rethinks his words. "What do you think of amending the definition of marriage to make it gender neutral?"

Green eyes blink, then grow pensive. After some thought, Nahyuta nods. "There should be no problem. There is nothing in the Khurainist Scriptures that would prohibit it, so it would not be against the Constitution, and marriage equality is increasingly accepted across the world."

A thoroughly impassive and professional response — classic zen monk. He needs to fish a little harder.

"Great!" Grinning and keeping his tone flippant, he adds, "Then you can finally keep your promise!"

This way, he can laugh it off. This way, nothing has to change.

Afraid his face might give something away, he focuses on rewriting the clause in his notepad.

It takes a second before Nahyuta gasps, then splutters. "Wh— I— Satorha! T—that was clearly under duress!"

"Duress?" He whirls, unthinking. "So you didn't mean it?" As his eyes meet stunned green ones, he realizes his mistake — he shouldn't have looked, and his last outburst hadn't sounded the least bit joking or teasing. _Crap, crap, crap… Justice, you're done._ He quickly turns back to his work. _But duress…_ Looking back, he certainly can't disagree that it counts as such, but he has to admit — it stings.

"Apollo, I—"

"It's fine," he interrupts. They were just kids. It doesn't— It doesn't mean anything.

"Apollo, I apologise."

"You don't have to—"

"It was callous of me," Nahyuta interjects, insistent. "Not to mention disingenuous."

"Huh?"

Nahyuta takes Apollo's hand and winds his rosary around it. "I want you to have this."

Apollo stares at the string of prayer beads, then at their owner. "But… aren't these really important to you?" Their religious significance aside, Nahyuta once told him that they were given to him when he completed his study of the Scriptures and became fully ordained.

The other smiles. "If they were not important, it would hardly be a show of sincerity." He folds Apollo's fingers over them. "It's my turn, after all. As I said, I must apologise. I thought you were only joking, so I reacted flippantly as well, but…" He looks away. "All this time, I had hoped you didn't make those promises in childish ignorance."

 _Oh._ He covers Nahyuta's hands with his own. "Well, I did, but that doesn't mean they weren't true." He's never loved Nahyuta any less.

Nahyuta lights up like he hasn't seen since they were children. "Then… in that case, Apollo, will you marry me?"

"Ah…" His cheeks blaze. He never expected… "D—don't you have some kind of obligation as regent?"

Green eyes blink slowly, then widen. "Ah, I see what you mean. Yes, I expect many would be disappointed by my decision, but I have no wish to commit my life to pretense. In my heart, there has never been any other."

He throws his arms around Nahyuta, unbelievably and unspeakably happy. "Then yes, of course!"

Nahyuta returns the embrace, and he's missed this — it's been so long. Even after their reunion, not knowing where they stood, they'd remained distant albeit friendly.

"Technically," he straightens with a grin, "you agreed to marry me a long time ago."

Nahyuta laughs, leaning in, and his lips are as soft as they look. He still smells of that faintly smoky floral musk, and his hair is like silk running over Apollo's fingers. It's like a piece of his life he'd never known was missing has fallen into place, perfect — he'd never realized how much he'd wanted to do that.

"We should get back to work," Nahyuta says at length, and—

"That's right." Apollo turns back to the books with renewed purpose. "We really need to change these laws now."


End file.
